Keep the Domestics Outside, Thank You
by TARDISTraveller
Summary: A series of One-Shots featuring a variety of Doctors and companions. Times when the Doctor is forced to live the domestic life. Some are sad, some are happy; you can start wherever you'd like. Prompts welcome!
1. Milk Run

**This is the first of (hopefully) many one-shots inspired by the Doctor's hatred of anything domestic. This one features the Ninth Doctor and Rose Tyler. Please enjoy!**

Keep the Domestics Outside, Thank You: Milk Run

"Rose, I have an important question to ask you."

"What is it, Doctor?"

"Is milk necessary?"

The Doctor was standing sullenly with his arms crossed, leaning against the console. The green light of the TARDIS was casting mysterious shadows across his features. Rose stood in the threshold of the corridor leading from the Console Room to the rest of the never-ending ship. Her eyes were still heavy with the weight of a good night's sleep, but her jeans and hooded sweatshirt proved that she was ready for adventure. The Doctor's odd question forced her minty breath to escape her in the form of a chuckle.

"I'm serious. Is milk necessary or is it not?"

"We're out, aren't we?"

"It lasts such a short time!"

The Doctor's leather-jacket-wearing-arms-crossed-shadowy-mysterious-cool-guy persona drifted away as he let his arms fall to his aides and allowed his voice to rise a few pitches.

Rose's face turned smug as she fiddled with her nails. "I guess we'll have to make a pit-stop."

"Which leads me to my initial question..."

"Doctor, we need milk for tea. We both do."

The Doctor stood silently with his mouth slightly agape. "I had forgotten about that."

"We don't even have cream?"

"Nope."

"Better get to it, then."

The Doctor gave her one last pleading look, but her force fields were up and she wasn't taking "no" for an answer. A moment later, the groan of the TARDIS marked their departure. Rose joined the Doctor at the console, struggling not to smile as she stared at his still, stoic expression. The TARDIS finally landed but the Doctor was still staring at the time rotor, still grinding to a stop as it made it's final downwards descent. "It's my turn, isn't it?"

"Yep."

The Doctor turned to Rose, who was already holding out a few notes for him and looking pleased with herself. No getting out of this one. He took the money and shoved it into his pants' pocket. Rose finally let her tongue come between her teeth as she broke into a smile. The Doctor glared back, finding it difficult not to smile along with his companion, but finding it even more difficult to allow his stubbornness to fade away. "I'll be back in a mo'."

Hands in his pockets, he sauntered towards the doors. "Get two litres this time!"

"Got it!"

He closed the doors harder than was necessary. Stupid milk. Stupid cows. He could be saving the universe. What was he doing walking into a silly little supermarket? Where was the milk, anyway?

He had been so caught up in his thoughts, he hadn't bothered looking for the one item that he was here for. He looked up at a sign above the closest aisle.

Bread

Cereal

Muffins

Nope. The next aisle held soup and sauce. The next had canned goods. Finally he found the freezers. The air was always a bit too nippy for his liking in this part of the store, which just added to the issues he had with getting milk. He passed by the ice creams and the frozen fruit. Where was the milk? The frozen chips passed him by and then he found himself at the end of the aisle. Confused and annoyed, he glanced to his left and right. Nobody was in sight except a young, sleepy looking woman and her crying child. Another irksome element to add to this shopping trip. Finally he decided to leave the freezer section and find somewhere a bit warmer to think through his problem. When he came to the aisle with canned foods, he instantly turned down it. Slowing his pace now that he wasn't freezing, the Doctor tried to think through where the milk must be. All logic he had come to, however, disappeared when he heard the crying child behind him. The noise was growing louder every second. The Doctor glanced behind him and saw the boy racing towards him. Jumping out of the way, he watched the boy rush to one point in the aisle and begin climbing the shelf.

A look to the mother told the Doctor that she wasn't paying attention to her crazy son. Her eyes were closing and if she weren't standing, the Doctor would've guessed that she was asleep. A few clinking sounds turned the Doctor's head back to the boy, who was now three feet off the ground and accidentally kicking cans to the hard, tiled floor. He knelt down and began picking up the dropped cans from the floor, noticing with a wince that some were definitely going to have to be paid for by the boy's poor mother, but a more dire circumstance arrived without warning. The Doctor heard a squeak like shoes on a wet floor and, before his brain had formed what was happening, the boy's shadow was coming over the Doctor. Without hesitation, the Doctor threw the cans still in his hand aside and let the boy fall into his hands roughly. Now the boy was really crying. The Doctor set him down lightly and put his hands on the boy's small shoulders. "It's alright, I got ya."

The boy looked at his mother, who had woken and was now sprinting to her son's side. "Oh my goodness, thank you so much, sir. Jeremy, don't climb things like that, you know that's dangerous!"

The Doctor stood and smiled as the woman embraced her child, who had thankfully stopped crying. After pulling away from Jeremy, the woman stood and hugged the Doctor, forcing a slight blush onto his face. "Thank you so much."

"It was nothing."

"No, I want to give you something. What are you shopping for?"

"Milk."

"It's on me."

"No, really, that's fine."

"Let me."

"I don't need thanks."

"Come on."

The woman tugged both Jeremy and the Doctor down the aisle and to the front of the store, where the Doctor was shocked to see the bottles of milk. The woman picked up two litres of the milk and handed them to the Doctor, slipping him a few pounds as she passed it off. "Thank you, sir. Jeremy thanks you, too, isn't that right, Jeremy?"

"Yeah."

Jeremy wasn't even paying attention to his mother's words, but the Doctor didn't mind. He let the small family go back to their shopping with a grin on his face. Lugging the two bottles of milk to the conveyer belt, the Doctor couldn't help but think about what could've happened if he hadn't had to come get milk today. If he hadn't picked this day to land on. If Rose, who knew where the milk was, had gone instead. A shiver ran down his spine as he handed a less-than-enthusiastic teenager the woman's money and watched the girl bag the milk, a look of utter depression on her face. The Doctor decided it was time for one more little act of kindness. "I'll tell you what," he read the girl's name tag, "Louise." The girl's eyes widened with shock, but a smile played at her lips. "I absolutely love your hair color." The girl's hair was dyed a variation of purples and blues and greens. "You've got the entire universe on your head."

Louise's eyes joined her smile. "My dad doesn't think so. He thinks I should change it back to normal."

"There's no such thing as normal."

"There is in hair color."

"Alright, but normality is irrelevant if different makes you happy."

Louise's mouth fell open slightly at the Doctor's words. Her hands seemed to freeze in midair. The Doctor burst into a wide grin as he took his bags and began walking away, Louise's eyes watching him as if he were a god.

The TARDIS stood on the corner of the supermarket, surrounded by dumpsters and waste bins. The Doctor stealthily put both bags in one hand and opened the door, which was, thankfully, not locked by Rose. He hadn't bothered taking his key. He continued through the open space, feeling the familiar humrough him as the grating creaked with his footsteps. "Rose, I'm back!"

He entered the kitchen with the milk and set it in the fridge. Behind him, at the small wooden table always set for breakfast, Rose was giving him a knowing look. "What?"

"You've been gone a while."

"Had some things to take care of."

"Can you ever go somewhere without changing someone's life?"

"What do you mean?"

Rose took her phone out and played a message. The voice belonged to Louise.

"Rose, I just had the best shift of my life! This man came in and started saying all these things and...oh my goodness he changed the way I look at life. Rose, if you ever see a guy wearing a leather jacket, has real short hair, super pretty blue eyes, you yell for me. I think he's an angel, Rose. I really do."

The Doctor couldn't hold his smile back. Rose began nodding her head as she put her phone away. "An angel."

"She must be talking about someone else."

"Pretty blue eyes?"

"Exactly; not me. I've got dull blue eyes."

"You're such a bad liar."

"I know."

They shared a hearty laugh. It was one of those pure moments that they could just be together and celebrate the universe and the fact that they had been able to meet each other when they did. When they both needed it most. "Tell ya what, though."

"What?"

"Looks like you can be the one to get milk now."

The Doctor faked a slight grimace, but he couldn't hold it for long before his smile returned. After all, maybe, just once in a while, life could all change from a little moment of domesticity.


	2. Dinner with Mum

Keep the Domestics Outside: Dinner with Mum

A full length mirror stood in the Console Room, making the room look even bigger on the inside than usual. The Timelord who owned said mirror was currently adjusting his bowtie for the tenth time that evening, vexation written all over his face. Rose Tyler watched him from a distance, a new red dress clinging to her frame as she leaned against a coral pillar. Her dark, glimmering eyes were magnified by the complementary makeup she had applied just a minute or two before, but her real beauty was held in her smile. The Doctor's black tuxedo jacket was still crinkled in places from it's last trip out of the TARDIS, but his black Converse were freshly cleaned. He was trying so hard. His voice rang out from the face of the mirror, where he was checking his teeth, once again, for perfection. "Rose? Are you almost…"

His volume dropped away as his eyes landed on Rose's face and glimpsed up and down her figure, raised higher than usual by inch-long black heels. A rush went through him. His brain couldn't form words for a moment. Rose's smile doubled in size, her bangs brushing her cheeks as she followed his eyes to her shoes. "Whaddya think?"

The Doctor cleared his throat and forced his eyes to return to those his companion's, making a short pit-stop as they did so. "Nice. Very...very nice. Brilliant."

His hand was scratching the back of his head, dishevelling any hair that hadn't already returned to it's normal, unkempt style. Rose sauntered to the console, her smile spreading even further across her face as her cheeks blushed pink. She had to clear her throat before she could speak normally again. "February first? 2006?"

The Doctor followed her to the console and read the coordinates. "Should be, yeah."

"For your sake, they better be."

They shared another smile and the Doctor held his arm out for Rose. "Shall we?"

Rose tucked her arm under the Doctor's as they exited the TARDIS and entered the windy atmosphere of the Powell Estate. The leaves were still gone from the trees and the air held the dry chill of winter. Rose clung just slightly closer to the Doctor as a gust of wind whipped around her exposed legs. They trekked quickly to the metal door of the building, Rose gasping as her hand searched where her pockets would normally be. "I forgot my key."

Rose looked longingly back at the TARDIS,but the cold air rustling through the trees filled her with a sense of dread. The Doctor tapped her shoulder with something that felt like a pen and she turned to see the sonic screwdriver hovering in front of his smug face. Without another word, the Doctor sonic-ed the panel beside the door, sending sparks as the door jerked open. "You're gonna have to fix that later."

The climb up the steps seemed longer than ever before. Rose's high heels already seemed to be destroying her feet and she made a mental note to ask for a spa planet when they next set out. Finally they reached the door that sent a feeling of warmth and home to Rose, and the Doctor if he was honest. Knocking three times, Rose tried to remember what exact day she had last been home, but to no avail. Not five seconds passed before her mother was standing there, eyes wide with shock, hoodie and sweatpants showing she had no plans that evening. "Rose! Oh my God; I had no idea you were coming."

"We wanted it to be a surprise."

Jackie ushered them inside and shut the door quickly, blocking all of the cold air as it threatened to invade their home. "Look at you both. You'd think there was a wedding going on."

Rose and the Doctor sat together on a couch in the living room as Jackie took a seat across from them, her eyes still slightly full of shock. "So what've you two been doing?"

Rose glanced at the Doctor. "The usual. Planets; stars; civilizations."

The Doctor began rustling in his pocket, his struggle watched amusingly by Rose and bemusingly by Jackie. A moment later, he pulled out a box wrapped in thin blue paper. Jackie's eyes grew even wider. "How'd he fit that in there?"

"They're bigger on the inside."

The Doctor winked as he handed Jackie the package. "We picked this up for you on a planet in the Skarrey Belt called Breg-Kroon."

Jackie began ripping the paper off of the box, her daughter anxiously awaiting her mother's reaction. When the box was folded away and the silver oval of jewels was pulled out, Jackie looked up at the two time travelers with deep gratitude. "It looks expensive."

Rose sighed with a smile. "Just try it on."

"I won't catch any alien disease, will I?"

"Mum!"

"Alright; alright."

Jackie clipped the jewels around her neck and looked down at the sparkling center diamond, a rare, blue frosted jewel only found in the remote caves of Breg-Kroon. "It's beautiful. Thank you."

Rose stood and hugged her mum. "Happy birthday!"

After one more appreciating look at the necklace, Jackie gave a glance over Rose's attire. "Does this mean I have to get dressed?"

Half an hour later, Rose was squished in the middle backseat of a cab; the Doctor staring fervently out the window to her left and her mum adjusting her purple dress she had bought five years ago for some wedding or other. Rose glanced from one companion to the other, the cab filling with more and more awkwardness the longer this journey went on. She couldn't blame the Doctor for finding the outside trees and clouds so interesting at this particular moment.

When they finally arrived at the restaurant, an expensive place reserved only for very special occasions, the three backseaters clambered out of the car onto the cold pavement, the awning above them blocking only a fraction of the bitter winds. The Doctor checked with Rose before handing the cabbie a bit more money than he probably should have. Rose didn't mean to mess with the Doctor so much, but it was just so simple. Anyway, it wasn't like he couldn't sneak money out of the ATM anytime he pleased. She made herself promised not to make him pay the entire bill at supper.

They made their way into the lobby of the building and let the warm air of indoors wash through them for a moment before making their way into the dining room. A man with slicked hair and a tuxedo similar to the Doctor's greeted them with a smile and put his hands behind his back. "Reservation?"

Rose looked to the Doctor, who was praying he had called on the correct day. "Three for Smith?"

"Smith! That's his name. Why didn't he just say that when we met? Woulda made things a bit simpler"

Rose turned to her mother with a grimace. "Shh, not exactly."

"Whaddya mean?"

"I'll explain later."

The man with the slicked back hair was now holding three menus and seemed to be bouncing on his heels. "Follow me, please."

They followed the man to a small table seated under a blue stain-glassed light that hung from the ceiling. There was a low hum from the other guests, mostly consisting of stuffy old businessmen and their clients. Rose was absentmindedly biting her lip and gazing around the room as the Doctor and Jackie sat beside and opposite her, respectively. "So this is nice. Don't come to this place often."

Rose stared at the menu as silence consumed their table once more. A sideways glance at the Doctor told her that he was already distracted from their supper. His eyes were unblinking as he watched the people at the table in front of theirs; a man with more product in his hair than in the Doctor's entire TARDIS and a young woman who looked disgusted with her date. The man seemed to be talking about how well his business was doing and the woman was nodding along and focusing more on her drink. Suddenly Rose felt the Doctor brush her hair, sending nerves through her as his voice entered her ear. "I think he's a Zygon."

Rose backed away from him quickly, a puzzled smile written on her face. Jackie watched this interaction without amusement. "Oi! Hands and lips to yourself, you."

Blood rushed to the Doctor's face as he became flustered for the second time that day. "I didn't; we weren't; I was jus-just..."

The Doctor's words faded as his eyes stuck on the accused-Zygon man. Rose followed his gaze to the man's hand, which was now gripped tightly around the woman's wrist. The Doctor sprang from his seat and was beside their table in an instant. "Let go of her."

The Doctor's voice held none of the fluster it had been possessed by a moment earlier. Rose was half-seated half-standing, her eyes wide with shock and anxiety. Her mother was listening to every word that was being said.

The man gave an incredulous look at the Doctor as he loosened his grip on the woman and his dark eyes met the Doctor's in an equally menacing glare. "Excuse me?"

"What are you doing here? Why is she important?"

Now it was the woman's turn to give the Doctor a look. "Oi! I can hear you, ya know?"

The man stood to his full height, a few inches above the Doctor, as tall as he was. The entire dining room was watching the exchange now, the waiters nervously leaning their weight from one foot to the other as they debated getting involved. The man didn't hold the aggressive behavior of some 'bad guys', but his piercing eyes made Rose's heart race out of fear for the Doctor. "What I'm doing here is having a date. I would advise you to get back to yours before you get into trouble."

Rose's cheeks blushed pink from the man's comment and she hoped her mother hadn't heard. The Doctor casually reached inside his jacket, hand tightening around his screwdriver. "Oh, come on, we both know you're a Zygon!"

"A what?"

"Don't pretend you don't know. When you sneezed, you're face got all big and red and suckery; you smell like you fell in a sewer; you're a Zygon!"

The man's fist collided with the Doctor, sending the scrawny Timelord to the floor in an instant. Everyone in the vicinity was now watching, eyes full of shock. Rose knelt by the fallen Doctor, who was cautiously checking his lip for blood, and Jackie was looking at the frozen waiters with a blazing fire in her eyes. "Don't just stand there, you two!"

Jackie came down to Rose and the Doctor's level, putting a warm hand on his shoulder as she noticed the cut on his lip. "You alright, sweetheart?"

The Doctor nodded his head and stood slowly, supported by Rose and Jackie. One of the waiters had finally grabbed the maybe-not-a-Zygon man by the arms, holding him still as he squirmed to get free. The other waiter glared at the Doctor. "Out. All of you."

The man glanced around for his girlfriend, who had disappeared without a trace, before stomping out of the restaurant. The Doctor, followed by Rose and then Jackie, sauntered out silently behind.

They meandered down a few roads, the darkness and quietness of the street a welcomed peace after the action they had just endured, until Rose's head shot up. "Do you smell chips?"

Jackie rolled her eyes, but the Doctor only smiled. The chippy Rose had smelled lay only two stores away from where they were, so they each bought a basket of chips and a hamburger. On these back streets, the only place to sit was on the wall beside the shrubbery, so it was there that this tuxedo and evening gown trio dined. As soon as Rose had eaten three or four chips and her starvation no longer felt dire, she turned to the Doctor and gasped. "Your lip is still bleeding."

Grabbing a clean nappin from her lap, arose began dabbing the crimson from the Doctor's mouth. "Rose! It's fine; you don't have to- Rose!"

The Doctor's protests went unnoticed by the shopgirl-turned-physician. "You wouldn't have gotten hurt if you hadn't been so nosy."

"If he is a Zygon, the entire planet could be in danger. Did you see the way he was treating that woman? He's getting information."

"He's not a Zygon. He's just an arse."

"Rose!"

"Sorry, mum, just being honest."

Jackie was giving both Rose and the Doctor an odd look as they stuffed their faces with burgers and chips. Her eyes seemed intrigued but her mouth read as pity. "Now I get why you two are in trouble all the time."

Rose turned to her mother, quickly finishing the bite she was chewing so she could speak clearly. "Mum, before you blame the Doctor-"

"I wasn't going to blame him!"

Rose turned back to her box of food muttering an apology. Jackie's face softened once more as she gazed at her daughter. "It's because you help people. You don't let bad things happen; even if they don't concern you. And I think that's wonderful."

The Doctor and Rose whipped their heads in Jackie's direction, mouths gaping open slightly as they realized what she had just said. Rose's smile returned to her face. "You're serious? You actually support this now?"

"Oi, I've always supported it! I was just nervous about him, I think. Brought you home a year late, remember?"

The Doctor's face fell as he gazed at Rose's mum. "Sorry about that, again. I really am."

Rose hopped off the wall, gathered everyone's trash, and paced off to the closest trash bin, which lay a few stores away. Jackie was watching the Doctor once more. "You just keep her safe, alright?"

The Doctor turned back to Jackie. Both faces held nothing but seriousness now. "Nothing will happen to her, Jackie, I swear."

A grin came over Jackie's features. "She loves it, you know. Never stops talking about it. I can barely understand half of what she says now, but I know she loves every second of it."

"I love it, too."

Rose's heels clicked nearby and the Doctor and Jackie joined her on the hard pavement again. "Home?"

Rose smiled at her mother, who seemed a few years younger since Rose's trip to the trash bin. "Home."

After an awkward rendition of 'Happy Birthday' by the Doctor and Rose, two episodes of Britain's Got Talent, and a photo that was even more awkward than the two person birthday song, Rose and the Doctor stood by the TARDIS is front of the Powell Estate, the wind biting at their faces in the night air. Rose wrapped her arms around her mum's shoulders as a goodbye hug and leaned against the TARDIS. Next, the Doctor held out his hand for Jackie, but the human smacked it away. "Come here, you."

She grabbed his middle a bit too tightly as he gave Rose wide 'help me' eyes. His blonde companion merely smiled at him. Finally Jackie let go and the Doctor was allowed to take his key out and trek to the TARDIS doors, the wind ripping through his hair as he did so. The door opened with a creak and Jackie watched her two 'kids' enter it with a mixture of joy and sadness that only a mother can feel. "Bye, mum!"

"Bye! Call me soon. Let me know where you are!"

Rose's face disappeared behind the blue door and an instant later the familiar groan was echoing through the entire apartment complex. Jackie watched as the old ship faded away, the wheezing still lingering in the air after it had gone. A moment passed as she stared where her daughter had been mere seconds before. Who knew where she would be next? A gust of wind snapped Jackie back to the present and forced her to retreat back home for tonight. The fact that it was her birthday was now forgotten. All she wanted was tea and sleep. Rose's travelling wore Jackie out too much.

**Thanks for reading! Reviews are amazing, but I'm just happy you took the time to read my stuff. Next chapter will feature the Eleventh Doctor, so keep checking back!**


	3. A Day at the Beach

**This one features the Eleventh Doctor, Amy, and Rory. Enjoy!**

Keep the Domestics Outside, Thank You: A Day at the Beach

Sparks flew from where the Doctor was fiddling under the Console with an un-sonic screwdriver, a common sight among occupants of the TARDIS. It flitted through Rory's mind that they should be worried at how often the TARDIS seemed to need repairs, given their lives were usually at stake as they whizzed through the Time Vortex, but he had learned not to say anything bad about the travelling-situation when Amy was around. She would probably just get annoyed with him, his words forgotten in an instant when her outer-space superhero assured their safety. Well, assured her, maybe. Amy nudged him hard in the ribs and he remembered why they had come into the console room in the first place. Clearing his throat, he glanced at Amy once more before squinting his eyes at the spot the sparks were coming from. "Doctor?"

The Doctor's goggled eyes came out from under the panel he was working on, an anxious look on his face. A spark flew less than an inch from his face and he quickly maneuvered out of harm's way before fiddling with the controls once more. "Not a good time, Rory!"

Rory sighed and gave Amy a slight shake of the head. Her eyes rolling, she leaned over the railing and called out, "Hey, Raggedy Man!"

The Doctor made one last turn of his screwdriver before peeking his head out once more. "Isn't it your bedtime, Pond?"

"We just want to ask you something. What are you doing, anyway?"

The Doctor jumped under the Console and twisted a few cables. "Something very complicated and important." As he banged the panel back into place with a nearby hammer, he glanced back up at the couple at the top of the staircase. His work finished, he slid his goggles down to his neck and stood, walking quickly to the bottom step as their figures retreated.

"Amy?"

Amy spun around slowly, arms crossed. The Doctor ruffled his hair and leaned both hands on the closest railing. "What did you want to ask me?"

Amy glanced at Rory before continuing. "It's our anniversary soon, and, well, we were wondering if we could maybe go to a beach somewhere?"

"A safe beach. Without, you know...being attacked or anything."

Amy nodded at Rory's addition to their proposal and they both looked down at the Doctor, who was beaming back at them. "I know just the place."

Amy took a step closer to the staircase, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "Wait, you're okay with that?"

Taken aback, the Doctor retorted quickly, "Of course I am. Why wouldn't I?"

Amy gazed around the enormous TARDIS. It still hurt her brain to think about it too much. "Have you seen you? Isn't a day at the beach a bit, I don't know, ordinary?"

The Doctor took a step backwards towards the console and pulled down a lever behind his back. His smile receded, just slightly. "I've had a lot of unordinary days at the beach." His smile returned a moment later as he forced certain beach-related memories out of his mind. "I've even been to a planet that was made entirely of sand. Although, that was more of a desert, I suppose."

Rory took a step so he was right beside his wife. "Does the beach you have in mind have any unordinary features we should know about?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes and pulled the lever back up to it's starting position. "If it bothers you that much…" The Doctor flicked a few switches and pressed a green button on the left side of the Console. Rory and Amy dashed down the steps to join him before the ship could send them flying down the steps. "We'll go somewhere _boring._"

Rory couldn't help the smirk that came across his face. It was rare that his wishes were actually granted aboard the TARDIS. Even rarer for the Doctor to be the one to grant them. As the time machine lurched, the three companions were forced to grab anything within reach to stable themselves. Amy and the Doctor simultaneously looked at the screen above them. "Wales?"

The Doctor stood up to his full height and pushed away from the Console, rushing to a nearby corridor. "Doctor?"

A moment later, the Timelord returned in attire that made Amy cover her mouth and Rory's face to turn from slight confusion to complete bewilderment. From his head to his feet, there was no question that the Doctor was ready for the beach. On top of his already goofy head was an umbrella had and covering his eyes were a pair of dark, barely fashionably legal sunglasses. His white dress shirt had been exchanged for an orange and yellow Hawaiian top that reminded Rory of his childhood embarrassment of his father. The Doctor's board shorts and black sandals completed the ridiculous picture, and forced Rory to step out of the room for a moment as he worked out how to kindly tell his friend that he looked like a complete..._child._

Amy took Rory's hand and led him up the stairs, both casting odd glances at the Doctor every few steps. Once in the privacy of their bedroom, Amy let a laugh she had been suppressing escape her. Rory pulled his polo off as he sighed. Pulling on her pink polka-dotted twopiece, Amy shook her head. "We can't let him go out in that."

Rory was sat on the edge of the bed, pulling on his totally average flip-flops, as he let out another sigh through gritted teeth. "We can't just tell him that he looks like and idiot."

Amy looked at herself with and without sunglasses in the mirror before tucking them into her bright red hair. "Why not? He might not even realize."

"Exactly. What if we hurt his feelings or something?"

Amy sat beside him, her straw hat grazing his cheek. "Rory, you're very kind, but I don't think people care half as much you think they do."

Amy stood and paced to the door, spinning around when she realized Rory was still on the bed. "Coming, husband? Don't want to be late to our own vacation."

Rory followed her through the corridor to the Console Room, where the Doctor was waiting by the door, outfit still as goofy as before. "Ready for the most average, boring day of your lives, Pond?"

The Doctor opened the door with a grand gesture. "An empty Welsh beach! No danger. No aliens. No fun."

Rory turned quickly to the Doctor, his smirk set in stone. "Sounds perfect."

They stared at each other for another moment before Amy led them out the door. "Come on, you two! No arguing on my anniversary."

The Doctor had been right about the beach being empty. Sand, a wall of eroded rock, and an expansive lake stood as the only features in the entire horizon. Rory smiled as he gazed up at the tall rock wall. Amy followed his gaze and took a few stumbling steps towards him through the dense sand. "That looks like the cliff on that show we watch. The one with the guy who looks like you; what's it called?"

"Broadchurch?"

"Yeah!"

"You're right."

A curious expression came across Rory's face as he glanced at the Doctor, who was scanning the sand with his Sonic. "You didn't take us to any parallel universe or anything, right?"

The Doctor's head shot up, sending the sunglasses to the edge of his nose. "Of course not. That wouldn't be possible."

Rory turned away from the giant cliff and took Amy's hand in his. "What should we do first?"

Amy turned immediately to the ocean and began running, tugging Rory along as she did so. "Amy! Amy hold on!"

Rory's legs struggled to catch up with her already running ones, but soon they were both at the same longitude, sprinting hand in hand through the hot sand. Finally their feet entered the freezing water, sending shivers up their legs. Rory tore off his sandals and tossed them into the sand a few metres away from where they stood. Amy followed suit and hopped up and down in the icy water. "Come on, Doctor!"

The Doctor was still scanning the sand by the TARDIS, seemingly forgetting about his companions, but his ears perked up at the sound of Amy's request. "I'll come soon, Pond. Just...investigating."

Before he knew what was happening, both of his arms were being seized roughly and his legs were being forced to follow as his body approached the ocean. "What's happening? No, no, no, no, no!"

They were already knee deep in the water when Amy and Rory nodded to each other and shoved the Doctor into the chilling deep blue, sending him sputtering and coughing as he regained his footing on the muddy earth beneath him. "What was that for?"

The Doctor scooped a handful of water and splashed Amy's uncovered stomach, awarding him an even bigger splash to the face from both members of the Pond-Williams family. Sometime in the middle of their splashing game, all three ended up on their rears in the water, allowing the waves to wash over them, all laughing heartily at the amount of unexpected fun they were having. Rory was the first to stand again. The water dripped heavily from his shorts back into the ocean where it belonged, and his shirt clung to him in places, a small detail that Amy didn't fail to notice as her husband took a step towards the shore. "Oi! Where are you going?"

Amy hurried to her feet and strolled along the shoreline with Rory's hand in hers as the Doctor watched, smiling broadly, from his still-seated position. An unseen wave crashed over his shoulder and sent another shiver down his spine, his face having adjusted to the air once more, and he quickly stood and rushed out of the water to join his friends.

They walked through the sand for what seemed an eternity. Amy and Rory held hands the entire time, occasionally whispering inside jokes and pecking each other on the cheek, the Doctor following from a slight distance so as not to disturb them. Finally, when the sun began setting and shadows had appeared over the sandy shore, they decided to stop walking and take everything in. Sitting in the sand, the three friends silently stared out to sea. The sun was casting a yellow glow on one spot over the water and mixtures of light and dark blue coursed through the rest of the expansive ocean. The sky had faded into a pink and periwinkle blue that contrasted the brightness they had enjoyed earlier in the day.

Amy and Rory lay hand in hand with the Doctor as the stars began glowing through the now-black sky, letting him explain what constellations were up there and how they were formed and what stars they were made up of. His words were mostly wasted on them, but the soft drone of his voice brought calmness and serenity to them as they drifted off to sleep under the sky. When the Doctor realized he was speaking to nobody, he carefully let their hands slip out of his and sat up, turning to them and smiling when he saw their hands still entwined in one another's. He leaned on his right knee as he stood slowly, the bright moonlight destroying any attempts of the night to frighten him. His feet carried him across the shoreline, feet in the warm ocean stepping unfortunately onto a seashell or two every now and then. When he had been walking for half an hour, he looked up and, hearts sinking, found that he had arrived exactly where he meant to be.

The cliff to his right was formed exactly how he remembered it, which only made his hearts sink further. A lump formed in his throat as his shaky legs carried him a few steps closer. "Here we go."

From his embarrassing umbrella hat he pulled a single rose. His hands were properly shaking now, and he quickly clenched his other hand around the rose so that we wouldn't drop it. The lump in his throat seemed to be strangling him, but he tried his best to fight back the tears that were now forming in his eyes. "Gah. No tears. Not now."

He sank to his knees as he gazed around, making absolutely sure that this was the correct spot. "Someone told me this beach was just like the one in Norway. I didn't know how accurate they were."

Memories flooded him. The last time he was on this beach. Goodbyes. Letting Rose go. He swiped away a few fallen tears as he placed the rose directly in front of him. Exactly where Rose had stood all those years ago. "Rose, if you're out there...I hope you're having an amazing life. I hope he's treating you well...I'm sorry I couldn't be with you. I'm sorry I sent you away. But it's better this way. You knew that. You always knew…"

He sank further and pulled the stupid umbrella hat off his head. A flood of anger took control of him and his grip on the hat tightened. Tears slid down his face and he let his head fall into his arms on the beach, the hat slipping out of his hands as he forgot everything except that fateful day. Those fateful days. That beautiful shopgirl with a fetish for chips. Picking his head up, he stared at the rose, an absent-minded smile coming across his face. "It's okay, though. We're both happy now. My friends are celebrating their anniversary. We had a good day here. Just because there are some bad times...there are so many good times, Rose. Maybe not for us; not here. But others. Other people come to this beach. Other people have the time of their lives here. Perspective is everything."

As he said this, he gazed up at the dark sky; bigger than even he could imagine, and at the ocean; possibly just as mysterious as the universe. Both so impossible. Both so real. Both making him and his heartache feel like nothing and everything at the same time. A mysterious grin came across his face and he shook his head. "The world is strange, Rose Tyler. I thought I'd never be happy without you. I thought I was going to die. I had help. I hope you did, too. I hope he's helping you half as much as you're helping him. I know I didn't when I was in his position. I hope you had a good time, though, Rose. I know I did."

He stood quickly, grabbing his umbrella hat as he did so. Staring at the rose, he allowed one last tear to fall. "Goodbye, Rose Tyler."

He traversed back to Amy and Rory, who wouldn't wake for another few hours at least. In his mind flew the memories of his past lives; of heartbreak and joy; of loss and of friendship. Such a strange universe. Such strange creatures who inhabited it. And such a great joy it was to be able to be here for it all.


	4. Assisting the Teacher

** This story features the Twelfth Doctor and Clara Oswald. Thank you for reading! (Also, review are very, very, VERY good to receive, just sayin') **

Keep the Domestics Outside, Thank You: Assisting the Teacher

Stacks of student notebooks littered the coffee table in front of Clara, silently judging her procrastinatory habits that had led her to staying in tonight. It was a Sunday evening and she was at her wits end. Why has she assigned such a long essay for her students to complete? Taking a sip of her second coffee of the day, she resolved to stop any distractions for the rest of the night. She picked up the first notebook, owned by the worst speller in her class. She took another gulp of caffeine. This was going to be a long night.

Twenty minutes later and one essay down, Clara had lost all hope of finishing her grading. Her upside down phone beckoned to her, promising one sure way of finishing this grading by tomorrow. '_No_'. She shook her head and picked up the next student's notebook. '_No more running away from responsibility.' _

Still, she couldn't help her eyes glancing over at the mobile every few paragraphs, a feeling of worry and dread only getting worse with time. When her watch beeped it's nine O'Clock alarm, her face was in her hands and her coffee cup was on it's side next to the glass of wine she had found herself pouring a half an hour before. '_He can't really hurt at this point, can he?'_

Marking her fifth essay out of twenty, Clara made up her mind. Her fingers were dashing over the keys on her mobile as fast as lightening before the watch had a chance to mock her once more with it's ten mze alarm.

Not one minute passed before Clara was forced to hold down all of the scattered papers on her table; the room was filling with a flurry of wind. The groan of the TARDIS brought an involuntary smile to her face as the big blue box appeared in her living room. The door opened quickly, sending it crashing into the wall, as the Doctor dashed out, eyes full of concern. Clara's eyes widened slightly in shock. "What's wrong? What happened?"

Clara let out a nervous chuckle. "Nothing happened. What, you thought I was in danger or something?"

The Doctor stared at Clara, confusion and embarrassment making their way through his flushed face. "It's not Wednesday."

"So I noticed."

"You never call when it's not Wednesday."

"It's not the strangest thing to happen, is it?"

"You said you needed help."

"With grading."

"What?"

"Grading."

The Doctor glanced over the student notebooks strewn on the table before him, then looked back up at Clara. "I'm not a teacher's assistant, Clara."

Clara picked up her glass of wine and brought it up to her face. "Ah, right, you're the 'Caretaker'."

A smirk came across her face as the Doctor gaped at her cheekiness. She set down her glass and picked up a pile of notebooks still ungraded.

Clara held out the stack of notebooks towards the less-than-amused Gallifreyan. "Here."  
The Doctor's puzzled look shifted from Clara to the papers in her hand. "What am I supposed to do?"  
"Read them; check for spelling errors; grammar; make sure they stay on topic, that sort of thing."  
"What's the topic?"  
"Who their hero is."  
"Are you trying to prove something?"

"My hand's getting tired."  
The Doctor took the pile out of Clara's hand and sat beside her on the couch. When he didn't move for a moment, Clara leaned over his shoulder, gazing at the notebook in front of him. "Whatcha doin'?"

The Doctor stiffened slightly and opened the notebook sharply. "Grading."

Clara watched him with an amused expression as he stared at the paper in front of him, eyes squinting at the tiny print. Suddenly he turned his head to Clara. "You know, you can come in the TARDIS and do this later. No deadlines when you have a time machine."

To be honest, this thought had crossed Clara's mind, but she had already done that...twice. On multiple assignments. So that was out of the question now. Besides, there was a chance that Danny would call at any second and Clara had noticed how the Doctor reacted when Danny called while he was around. "What if you bring me home late? I'm not losing my job because my genius Timelord friend can't drive his time machine."

"When have I ever brought you home late?"

Clara gave him a knowing look and he turned back to the paper in front of him. "Don't answer that."

The pile of finished notebooks Rose twice as fast with the added assistance of the Doctor, and soon enough they were on the last four. The Doctor brought the page extremely close to his nose, eyebrows furrowed towards the first sentence on the page. Clara glanced over from the first brilliant essay of the evening and smiled at the Doctor's struggle. "That must be Jada's."

"How does she even write that small? Was her pencil miniaturized?"

Clara grabbed the book out of his hands and swapped it for her own. "I'll grade Jada's, if you want. I need to write her a note, actually. This one's brilliant so far, though. You should give it a go."

It was Clara's turn to squint at the tiny letters on the page, somehow deciphering the words enough to make sense of them, even though the placement of said words was not exactly proper English. She took the cap off of the pen she was holding and made a third mark in just the first paragraph alone. Shaking her head and tightening the cap once more, she glanced over at the Doctor to see how he was getting on.

An odd feeling came over her as she noticed the serious look on his face. His eyes seemed to be glistening as he stared at the piece of paper in front of him, hands clasped together against his mouth, leg bouncing up and down quickly in an agitated fever. Clara set her notebook on her lap quietly, eyes unblinking as she watched the Doctor's every breath. "Doctor? You alright?"

The Doctor turned to her quickly. His eyes were shining clearly with unshed tears. "Of course I'm alright. Why wouldn't I be?"

Clara decided to ignore the high pitched-ness of his voice and the defensive manner his quick words had taken. "Can I see that essay you're reading?"

She carefully prodded it off of his leg and read through it quickly, pretending not to see him angrily wipe his face in his sleeve. The essay that the student had written was about her hero..her dog. Clara cast an inquisitive glance up at the man who was now acting oh-so tough as he marked a different essay, scribbling notes about misused pronouns and wrongly spelled words. As Clara started to read, she understood why the Doctor had gotten so emotional. Apparently the girl's dog had a prosthetic leg and at one point could barely walk, but he always went running with her when she was training for track season. By the last sentence, Clara felt a tingling sensation that reminded her of baby showers and weddings, but no tears formed in her eyes. She marked the page and set it down on the table, her eye catching on the clock that was now reading 10:30 P.M.. The Doctor was finishing a last note that Clara prayed was appropriate and put his book down with a dark smile. "I don't think you'll have problems with his grammar anymore."

When Clara continued to simply stare at him, the Doctor's smile faded. "What?"

A grin appeared on Clara's face, which sent pink heat to the Doctor's face. "I didn't know you had a soft spot for puppy dogs."

The pink of his cheeks turned to a darker red. He turned away from his companion so she wouldn't see, but it was too late. Hastily stacking the notebooks more neatly and picking up the final essay, he tried his best to ignore her lingering smile and soft eyes. "You don't have to be embarrassed about showing some emotion."

"I'm not embarrassed, Clara, and I wasn't showing emotion; I actually had something from your flat in my eye. I'm lucky I didn't go blind. How is your face still doing that after all this time?"

Clara's eyes seemed to cover half of her face as she watched the Doctor's rambling. She almost reminded him of a little dog he had seen wandering the streets once, but he wasn't about to go down that road again. "Shouldn't we finish grading? It's almost eleven. Isn't that a bit late for you to be up?"

About ten minutes later, they had finally finished all of Clara's grading. The Doctor stood first, pacing to the TARDIS as fast as he could as he withdrew his key. Clara quickly followed, however, and as soon as he had the key in the lock, she put a hand on his shoulder and turned him around. "Woah, woah, woah; leaving without saying goodbye, Doctor?"

"Right. Bye."

The Doctor spun around to the door and tried to yank it open, but Clara pulled him back again. "What's up?"

Slowly, the Doctor's tall frame turned and leaned against the TARDIS doors, an expression of dread on his face. Clara's worry for him doubled. "You've been doing this a lot lately. Running off as soon as I'm home; coming in expecting trouble; what's wrong?"

The Doctor shifted awkwardly, still staring at the ceiling. Finally he closed his eyes and allowed his head to drop, resolving himself to telling the truth. Eyes back on Clara, he cleared his throat and shifted for a last time onto his other foot. "I...worry about you. I keep expecting something to happen. For you to not be here when I come to pick you up. For you to be done with travelling."

"You know all that's over-"

"I know..."

Clara and the Doctor were both staring at the floor. Clara turned her head back to the TARDIS and ran her finger along the blue wood, her mind turning over a million thoughts at once. "What about the not saying goodbye. Why do you keep leaving so quickly?"

"I don't want to think about all the things that might happen before I see you again. Walking away makes it easier. Helps me get my mind off of the hypothetical."

Clara gazed up at the Doctor. The man who always hated endings. The same man, always. Finally she smiled. "You better get on your way, then. Don't think about me. Don't think about goodbyes or any of that. Just think about that little doggie with the prosthetic leg, eh?"

"Drop it."

"Oh, Doctor, you really think I'm ever letting you live this one down?"

"I don't cry over little girls and their pets!"

"Whatever you say."

The Doctor turned quickly and took a step towards his TARDIS before spinning back, ready to retort, but he thought better of it and closed the door softly without a goodbye. As Clara watched the time machine groan out of existence, she couldn't help but feel sorry for the Doctor and the enormous baggage he forced himself to carry everywhere; all the people he couldn't stand saying goodbye to. Then her mind returned to the tears that filled his eyes from the cute story and her grin returned to her sleepy features. A yawn escaped her as she made her way into her bedroom, the reality of her upcoming Monday morning hitting her harder than the infinitely sized TARDIS.


	5. Spring Cleaning

**This story features the 9th Doctor and Rose Tyler. Enjoy!**

Keep the Domestics Outside, Thank You: Spring Cleaning

The Doctor's hands gripped the Console edge, fingers tapping rhythmically on the grey panel of the ancient time machine. His eyes were staring at a point slightly above the screen in front of him, his mind wandering the corridors of the TARDIS and pacing in front of Rose's door. Should humans sleep this long? Was he overreacting? Was something wrong? Did she sleep in this late yesterday?

Adjusting his posture, he reminded himself that he was probably being overprotective, as usual. He was always losing track of how long Rose had been asleep. Nevertheless, he couldn't take his mind off of his companion and her mysterious sleeping patterns. He was hurrying away from the Console Room before he had entirely thought of what he was doing and suddenly found himself in front of her door. "Rose?"

He pressed one large ear to the wooden board and listened intently to the sound of silence coming from the other side. Quickly he took his head away from the door and rapped above the knob with both hands. When no reply came, a panic coursed through him. Both hearts accelerating, he called out her name once more. '_She's fine. Of course she is. Stop worrying.' _Gritting his teeth, the Doctor grabbed the doorknob and turned it harshly, pushing the door open with all the force he had.

As he crashed into her room, Rose shot up, fear and shock written all over her sleepy face. The Doctor was struck into silence. Rose's bedhead took away none of her beauty, in fact, it made her even more irresistible. The Doctor mentally slapped himself as he composed what to say to his shocked human companion. Rose cut into his jumbled thoughts, her voice thick with sleep but just as powerful as it would be in the middle of the day. "Did you need something, Doctor?"

The Doctor pulled a piece of lint off his leather jacket awkwardly, hiding the embarrassment that was coming through his face. "No. Just checking on things. Sleep well?"

Rose smiled toothlessly as she pulled off the covers, her white tank top and pink sweatpants making an entrance. Gazing around her room with a furrowed brow, Rose stood and grabbed a few shirts off of the tile, revealing a small, red alarm clock lying on the floor, it's batteries strewn in two different directions near it. "I really need to clean up in here."

The Doctor had been investigating her bookshelf, which, to him, seemed like a chaotic mixture of books, year-old magazines, and various knick-knacks from planets they had visited recently. As he looked back at Rose, his smile receded. She was still trying to clean up some bits of her room, a pointless task, he knew, since the entire room had a layer of blankets, clothes, and other objects covering the floor. In fact, neither of the time traveler's actually remembered what the floor had once looked like.

"I think we're going to have to do some spring cleaning." Rose was giving the Doctor an innocent look, eyes big and gritted teeth showing her 'regret'.

"What about the 'planet of fireworks'? I thought you wanted to go somewhere today."

Rose shifted awkwardly from her left to her right foot. "I know, but...I really wanna get this cleaned up soon."

"Are you sure? I could have the TARDIS clean it up, if you wa-"

At this proposition, the soft hum of the blue box turned into a violent growl, forcing a quick apology from the Doctor. The noise decreased in intensity, but by no means disappeared. Rose smiled at the Doctor's predicament, tongue poking out through her teeth in the perfect way that the Doctor had grown so accustomed to looking for. Sighing insincerely, the Doctor let his arms fall to his sides. "I suppose, if you want, we can see the fireworks tomorrow."

Rose nodded in agreement and spun around, hair flying just a fraction later than her core. Within a few minutes, she had already run out of the room and had come back with two cardboard boxes, from where the Doctor had no idea. Slapping his hands together, he looked to Rose for orders, but quickly saw that she had forgotten that he was standing there. She was rummaging through her belongings, setting certain items in the box she had labelled 'keep' and a few others in the other box, 'rubbish'. The Doctor crouched beside her, nearly astounded as he realized how much work she had already done. "Ugh, Rose, what should I do?"

Rose turned quickly, a stern look on her face as she passed him a third cardboard box. "Go sort out the bookshelf over there. Put anything that's not a book in this box."

The Doctor paced quickly to the bookshelf, compelled by the authority Rose commanded as she whizzed through her cleaning. The shelves turned out to be more difficult to sort than the Doctor had thought. Books were strewn all over, their pages crinkled, some ripped. As he dumped the knick-knacks and priceless rocks into the box, the Doctor glanced over at Rose's small form, sitting cross-legged on an empty space on the floor, hands moving at the speed of light as she made instant decisions on what should stay and what should go. "You know, you're pretty good at this 'spring cleaning' thing."

Rose glanced up and smiled at him quickly before ducking her head back into the task at hand. "Mum always wanted me to keep my room clean when I was younger. She didn't care as much when I got older, but I still know how to clean."

The Doctor gazed at the blue crystal in his hand, remembering the day they had found it lying on the bottom of a cave, on a rainy afternoon on some very distant planet. Which one was it again? Rose's voice took him away from the stormy shores and back into the untidy TARDIS room. "Doctor? Can you grab that box?"

His head spun to face her, eyes fixing on the large box lying next to her on the floor. "Of course."

He placed the crystal carefully into the box on top of fashion magazine. With one last gleaming look at the crystal, the Doctor bent down and scooped the heavy box into his arms, a grimace coming across his face as the box strained his back. Rose looked anxiously up at the Doctor, who had finally gotten a good hold on the box. "You alright?"

"Yeah. Where are we taking this?"

"Just to the Console Room."

Through the corridors, the Doctor struggled with the box, which gradually began slipping out of his grasp as soon as they got through Rose's door. Rose glanced back a few times, quickening her pace each time as she noticed the Doctor's happy expression becoming more and more forced. Finally, they set the boxes beside the TARDIS doors, both taking a moment to compose themselves before standing to their full heights. The Doctor forced another quick smile in Rose's direction, eyes slightly glazed over, before filling his lungs with much needed oxygen. Rose grabbed his hand in hers unexpectedly and guided him back to her room. When they reached the threshold, the Doctor couldn't hold in a groan of complaint. "We could be watching multi-colored fireworks over a 100-meter coast right now. I could get a cleaning bot from somewhere, too."

"Doctor."

"They're pretty efficient, actually. Don't always steal your stuff, but when they do, at least they're civil about it-"

"Doctor."

The Doctor gazed down at Rose's brown eyes, which held many different emotions. "You can go see the fireworks, if that's what you want to do."

The Doctor instantly regretted his careless words, but his next words only made things worse. "It's no fun on my own."

Rose stormed into her room a few steps, then took a deep breath and turned slowly. "I want to stay here today."

The Doctor met her in the middle of the room, his mind running off in the many directions this conversation could lead. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just want to get this mess cleaned up and you're not being very helpful."

The Doctor mentally chastised himself again. "I'm sorry."

Rose allowed a perplexed smile to come over her face. "What was that?"

The Doctor repeated his apology seriously, causing the smile on Rose to grow before she gazed at the floor and got herself together. "I just don't want the mess to get out of hand. We're always going off on adventures and by the time we get back, I'm too tired to clean up anything."

"I know."

"You never want to sleep."

"That doesn't mean I don't get tired."

Rose gazed mysteriously at the Doctor for a second before turning back to the pile of clothes on the floor. "Anyway; we better finish the job."

"Right."

For the rest of that day (or, at least, until Rose's alarm clock told them it was nearly 21:00), Rose and the Doctor continued to clean, sort, dust, and eat whatever the TARDIS decided to spew out of the food dispenser on the wall. The room was now completely unrecognizable. Clothes were all in the closet; books were in alphabetical order on the shelves; collections of objects from their adventures were neatly organized on the walls and tables around the room. The bed was made up nicely, although Rose and the Doctor's weary bodies sleeping on it had added crinkles and unwanted folds in the blankets.

Rose's right leg dangled off the edge of the bed, a broom leaning on the mattress by her hand showed that she wasn't finished sweeping yet. The Doctor was curled up beside her, his jacket long forgotten on a nearby chair as his sweater-covered arms pillowed his head. The scene was odd for these two running adventurers, but it was welcome. Smiles faintly shined on both faces, an echo of the beautiful, simple day they had enjoyed. The fireworks were nothing to this messy, tired, wonderful 'spring cleaning'. Maybe, the Doctor dreamed, they would do this again some time.


	6. Take a Sick Day

**This fic features the Tenth Doctor and Martha Jones**

Keep the Domestics Outside, Thank You: Take a Sick Day

A sneeze echoed through the Console room. The fifth sneeze of the quarter-hour. Followed by the fifth, slightly concerned "Bless you" and a slightly insincere "Thank you". Martha eyed the tall, gangly alien with a doctor's curiosity. Mentally, automatically, she was listing off his symptoms, crossing off possible causes and checking off possible illnesses. It was like a sixth sense to her.

Her eye wandered up and down the Timelord's body, which was jumping around the Control panel, albeit slower than usual, acting as if nothing was wrong whatsoever. As the Doctor sneezed into his sleeve for the sixth time, Martha decided enough was enough. "You feeling alright?"

The Doctor's head spun to his companion's, a flicker of pain crinkling through his eyes. Martha added 'headache' to the ever growing list. "'Course I'm alright. Why wouldn't I be?"

The Doctor rubbed at his nose casually, which was almost as red as his dry lips. Martha struggled not to roll her eyes. "You've been sneezing all morning."

"Just a bit of a hay fever."

The Doctor was circling the Console, fiddling with random buttons and levers, inconspicuously avoiding Martha's gaze. "I'm studying to be a doctor. I know when people are ill."

Martha followed him around the room, her patience thinning with each step he took away from her. Instead of answering her statement, he was staring at a small television screen above the Control Panel, reading coordinates he already knew by hearts. Martha grabbed his arm rougher than she normally would and turned him to face her. Eyebrows furrowed, she stared up at his sickly face with nothing but annoyance. "Your nose is red; your lips are dry; you're paler than the tea you drink; you aren't moving as fast as usual; just admit it, Doctor."

The Doctor's mouth fell open slightly as he formed a response. "My biology is much more advanced than a humans. I don't _get_ ill. Timelords have adapted past the common cold."

Martha held her hand out expectantly, her lips pursed in frustration. The Doctor knew exactly what she was asking for. He took a step back. "I'm fine. Where do you want to go?"

Martha's hand remained in the air between them. "I'm not going anywhere until you let me help you."

Rolling his eyes, the Doctor reached a hand into his blue jacket and pulled out his silver stethoscope. "Oh, alright, if it'll make you feel better-"

He placed the device in her hand and glanced up at the ceiling, silently praying that his hearts would slow down to a normal rate in the next few seconds. The pressure of the stethoscope indented his suit and he sucked in a deep breath, already foreseeing the next words out of Martha's mouth before she took the plugs out of her ears and her eyes widened up at him. "Your hearts are racing! What on Earth-"

She touched a cold hand to his forehead, but quickly withdrew it, her eyes and mouth opening even wider. "You're burning up! Why didn't you tell me?"

The Doctor gritted his teeth and gazed down at her, finally braving her gaze. "I didn't want you to worry. It's just a-a fever or something. I don't know where I picked it up. Must've been on Falshoon, now that I think about it-"

Martha cut into his jabbering like a sword slicing an apple in Fruit Ninja. "Go to bed. Now."

The Doctor's shoulders slumped as his voice and demeanor became that of a three year-old's. "But Martha!"

"Go."

Her arms were crossed and her expression was simply cross. If one looked close enough, they could've found a trace of worry hiding in the twinkle of her eye, but it was minuscule. As the Doctor sauntered off to his bedroom, Martha allowed this speck of worry to make its rounds through her mind and release more nerves than she had ever felt in a hospital setting. What if he was really ill? What if she couldn't cure him? What if he died?

At this morbid thought, a shiver ran down her spine and Martha concluded that letting her worry get to her was the first step to destruction; for her and the Doctor. If they were going to get through this sudden strike of alien illness, she had to let herself be the doctor she knew she could be. Resolve comforting her nervous energy, Martha Jones, future doctor, paced towards the Doctor's bedroom door with determination in her eyes and a fire in her soul.

The Doctor's bedroom was much more ordinary than Martha expected it to be. A bed, a wardrobe, and a desk were the only pieces of furniture and nothing but lamps and a few scattered papers acted as Doctor sat on the bed, looking to Martha like a small child with his leg kicking absentmindedly as he watched her enter, eyes full of pre-doctor visit anxiety. Martha gave him the comforting smile she gave to all of her patients as she sat beside him. "Why don't you try getting some sleep?"

The Doctorhis companion, horrified that she would even suggest such a boring, human thing for him to do. "I'll be fine soon, Martha. It's just a little thing. It'll pass."

"Not if you don't do anything about it. Come on."

Before the Doctor could blink, Martha was standing above him, nudging his arm with a rough hand. "Under the covers. Go."

"You're not my mother."

"Right; I'm your doctor. Now; go to sleep. I don't want to hear from you for two hours at least, you got that?"

As the Doctor shimmied under the covers, too tired to take off his shoes and jacket, he muttered, "I thought I was the Doctor."

Martha watched him with annoyed pity as he closed his eyes and fell asleep instantly. To be completely honest, she had noticed the circles under his eyes days before and had been looking for an excuse to get him to take care of himself. Perhaps getting sick was what he needed, as long as it didn't get any worse than a bit of sneezing and irritability.

The door closed behind Martha and she slowly made way for her own room. It was rare that she had free time anymore. Maybe she could actually watch that movie that Tish had suggested all those days (or was it weeks?) ago. A smile flashed on her lips before the negative thoughts returned to the front of her mind. What if the Doctor was even more ill than he was letting on? What if she should be with him?

As if these thoughts had been a premonition, the TARDIS suddenly sent waves of information into Martha's brain, forcing the medical student to hold the frame of her door for support as her head pounded her. _Please protect my thief. He must stay in bed for at least three days. Take care of him, Martha Jones. You're a star._

The message added another ounce of fear to Martha's already overworking imagination, but at least now she knew what the future held. Silently she sent a 'thank you' to the old time machine and turned back into the Doctor's room once more. The TARDIS was right; she had to watch over the Doctor.

The rest of the morning went slowly. Martha sat in a chair beside the bed, reading a nearby copy of _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_, which hadn't come out in her time yet. Just as Ron was being splinched while apparating, the Doctor opened his eyes slowly. Absorbed in her reading, Martha didn't notice the conscious Timelord into his shaky hand was tapping her own. She nearly jumped in fright.

The Doctor's eyes widened as he realized the year that had fallen down Martha's cheek and Martha's eyes widened when she realized how sunken his eyes looked. It was as if he hadn't slept at all. "Are you alright?"

Martha let out a slight chuckle at the Doctor's obscene question. "I should be the one asking you that."

Martha felt the moisture on her face and quickly turned away, dabbing at the stupid tear with her sleeve before allowing the Doctor to see her again. "I was just doing a bit of reading. How are you feeling?"

The Doctor shut his eyes tightly as a wave of pain rushed through his addled brain. "Been better."

Martha set the book down quickly and jumped up to lay a cool towel on the Doctor's forehead. "The TARDIS sends her regards."

A ghost of a smile crossed the Doctor's face, but was soon replaced with a grimace. Martha eyes him pitifully. "Do you want something for that headache?"

The Doctor bolted up to a sitting position, dropping the towel off his head and onto the blanket on his abdomen. "No aspirin. Whatever you do; no aspirin. Deadly to Timelords."

Martha eased him back down and placed the towel back on his forehead. "Alright; no aspirin. Do you need anything else?"

"Tea?"

"Alright. But only because I was gonna get one for myself anyway." The Doctor grinned as Martha exited the room.

Martha returned to the cozy bedroom five minutes later, two cups of tea occupying the space between her thumbs and fingers on both hands. She set one cup on a coaster lying on the table beside the Doctor's bed and her own cup of steaming liquid on the empty top of a nearby bookshelf. She noticed with a smile that the Doctor's eyes were closed and his breathing had slowed once more. Adjusting the towel back onto his forehead, Martha gazed at the alien in wonder. Such an average thing, a cold, to happen to such an extraordinary person. (Martha was using the word 'cold' because she hadn't allowed herself to worry if it were a more serious illness.)

Martha picked her tea back up into both hands and settled into her chair, many evening carefully so it wouldn't spill as she opened her book to the bookmarked page. The Doctor's even breaths acted as the only background noise in this silent end of the TARDIS corridors. Even the ship herself was acting unusually quiet to allow her 'theif' some shut-eye.

Around three o'clock in the afternoon, (three o'clock Martha's time, at least), the sleeping physician finally opened his eyes and pushed himself into a seated position against the backboard of the bed. His eyes were still unfocused and his brain wasn't at it's fullest potential, but he had the ability to look over and smile at his companion, who had fallen asleep with _Harry Potter _on her lap and her head lolled onto the back of the chair awkwardly. The Doctor's lips curled into a smile as he leaned back and closed his eyes. Sometimes, all the Timelord wanted to do was freeze time. This was one of those moments. One of those precious, completely average yet completely extraordinary moments where the universe was just perfectly in order. There was no immediate danger, no alien threat, no run in down corridors. Just he in his bed and Martha in her chair enjoying a peaceful day in the warmth of the TARDIS.

His eyes shot open abruptly. _What am I thinking? Am I really becoming this sentimental? This mundane? This ordinary? This boring? This...human?_

One more glance at Martha and the Doctor groaned. He _was _becoming much more human, yes, but perhaps, just...perhaps that was what he had wanted all along.

**Thank you very much for reading! If you have a prompt, comment, or anything else to tell me, don't hesitate to write a review or just send me a direct message. **


	7. The Timelord and the Nanny

**Hello again! This story features the 11th Doctor and Clara Oswald.**

Keep the Domestics Outside, Thank You: The Timelord and the Nanny

A familiar sound echoed through the back of Clara's mind as she stared blankly at the cookbook in front of her. Another day, another attempt at a soufflé. Artie and Angie were in their separate rooms, listening to music and talking with their friends. Not studying like she had asked them to. How little the world had changed since Clara had been in school.

The sound finally registered in her brain and she instantly sprung up from her seat. "No, no, no. Not today."

Too late. The door was opening and the same old floppy haired, bow tie wearing alien she travelled with every Wednesday was giving her his best 'come into my song-box and run away with me' eyes. Clara crossed her arms as the Doctor set his screwdriver in the inside coat pocket. "You could've knocked."

"I didn't break anything."

"You can't just walk into people's houses!"

"It's Wednesday. I always come on Wednesdays."

"But usually I meet you outside."

"Does it matter?"

The stairs creaked behind Clara and she had to take a deep breath before turning around with her usual smile ingrained on her features. "Angie. Artie."

Artie stepped down once more. "Doctor?"

Clara stepped aside as Angie and Artie bounded down the steps to greet their hero. Today wasn't going to go to plans. The Doctor opened his arms wide and set his hands lightly on the kids' shoulders as they hugged his torso tightly. "We haven't seen you in forever!"

The Doctor simply gave Clara a questioning look, but she knew his question. "It's been five weeks since Hedgewick's."

Artie and Angie pulled away at the same time, big smiles on their faces. "Are we going somewhere today?"

"What about Mars?"

"Mars is stupid. What about Jupiter?"

"Why is Jupiter better than Mars?"

"It's bigger."

The Doctor bowed down to their level, his eyes twinkling in delight. Artie and Angie gravitated towards him. "You know, there's a planet where the dogs don't have noses."

"Don't have _noses?_"

"How do they smell?"

The Doctor stood up straight, brow furrowed. "Is never really thought about it."

As the Doctor entered the expansive world of his thoughts, Clara took a step towards the group and put her hands on the kids' shoulders, turning them away from the Doctor. "Well, maybe some other time we can check it out."

The instant effect of this simple sentence came in the form of whines and groans. "But Clara!"

"Why can't we go?"

"You're so boring."

The Doctor's eyes came back into focus as the three humans began ascending the stairs. "Clara?"

"Not a good time, Doctor. These two have exams to study for."

"They can study in the TARDIS! All the time in the world."

"Their dad's going to be home in a few hours."

"When have I ever brought you back at the wrong time?"

Clara rolled her eyes and the Doctor added quickly, "Don't answer that."

Looking around the room and tapping her foot, Clara managed to look at everything in the room, including Artie and Angie, besides the Doctor. Finally the Doctor's hands clasped together and a smile was on his face. "Alright. So-what do normal humans do on a Wednesday evening such as this?"

Without missing a beat, Clara deadpanned , "Study."

She spun around to the kids, who were still gazing wantingly at the still open front door from their position on the steps. When they noticed that their babysitter's stern gaze had fallen on them, they stood sullenly and began their trek up the staircase. As their figures disappeared from view, Artie called out, "Sometimes you're no fun!"

Clara smirked to herself before turning to the Doctor. "I'm sorry, Doctor, but they really need to study tonight and I really have to stay and watch them. Maybe later we can go somewhere. When their dad gets home."

The Doctor nodded his head in agreement. "What do you usually do while they're studying?"

"I don't know. Read? Watch tele? Bake? You can stay. If you want to, I mean."

The Doctor stared at a point on the wall for a moment before putting his index finger in the air between them. "I'll be right back."

The door was open and the Doctor was running through the yard before Clara had even realized what he had said. Her curiosity forced her feet to the doorway, but she jumped to the side as the Doctor smashed through the frame carrying a lathe cardboard box in his scrawny arms. Clara's eyes inflated. "What is that?"

"Oh, you know, some slumber party supplies. A couple pairs of pajamas."

"Doctor, you are not spending the night here."

"We have a few hours, don't we?"

"Well...alright. Fine. What've ya got?"

The Doctor glanced around and nearly ran with the box before setting it down roughly beside the television in the living room. "There we go."

Breathing deeply, he got into his knees and began rummaging through the ancient box. Clara was at his side within a few seconds. "Lots of films. Ooh popcorn!"

The Doctor tossed the two blue pajama tops onto the floor and shoved his hands into the stacks of DVD's. "What would you like to watch, Clara?"

"Whatever is fine with me."

A puppy dog grin came across the Doctor's face. Clara could never quite believe that the Tinelord was thousands of years old when he made that face. He looked about twelve.

The Doctor inconspicuously slid a DVD into his hand and spun around to the television, shoving the disk into the DVD player before Clara even saw him move. "What are we watching?"

"You'll see."

The Doctor and his companion sat casually on the sofa, the former with a mischievous grin aimed at the latter, who was happily perplexed. The film began and a familiar tune entered the human's ears. "Wait...is this...?"

Unable to contain his excitement, the Doctor looked at Clara and exclaimed, "Star Wars!"

When he didn't get the response he was looking for, the Doctor's grin faded. "What is it?"

As the yellow text rolled up the screen, Clara turned to her Timelord friend. "Never seen it."

The effect of her short sentence was extreme and quick. In a millisecond, the Doctor has paused the film, turned wholly around to face her, and his jaw had dropped about a foot down his face. "You've never seen Star Wars?"

Clara's head shook, but her smile stayed. She was used to this reaction by now. "Only bits and pieces."

The Doctor's smile returned in full force as he unpaused the television. "Get ready for the best two hours of your life."

The music of John Williams echoed up the not-too-distant staircase and through the cracks beneath both children's doors. Unlike their babysitter, the Arwell kids had seen and grown to love the Star Wars films, often getting into small lightsaber battles with sticks in the yard, and so their ears perked up whenever the beautiful symphony played that famous theme. Before the yellow writing had dissipated, four clambering feet were heard rushing down the stairs. Artie made it to the television set first. "You're watching Star Wars?" The Doctor paused the television once more.

Clara looked up at the young boy as she sighed. "Artie, have you finished studying?"

Artie glanced at his feet, but then picked his head up roughly. "I know enough for the exam. Honest! Ask me something about maths."

"Are you sure? If you don't do well it's on you, not me, alright?"

At this point, Angie had made her entrance into the room. "If he's allowed to watch, then so am I."

Clara gave the Doctor a disgruntled look, but closed her eyes in submission. "Alright. Alright. But you both have to do really well on all of your exams for me. Deal?"

"Deal!"

Clara and the Doctor shifted over on the sofa as the children sat eagerly beside them. The Doctor unpaused the screen for the final time and the quartet excitedly watched as the first image of a spaceship sailed through the sky.

The next two hours were without issue or disruption, besides when the Doctor made them all a big bowl of buttery popcorn, and, by nine thirty, no one in that room could utter that they had never seen Star Wars. Clara may have over exaggerated how much she enjoyed the film, but she was convincing enough to fool the enthusiastic Timelord.

Artie and Angie hurried up the steps mere seconds before their father returned from his busy day and the Doctor hid away on the back porch with his cardboard box even later. Clara mumbled some excuse or other and hurried out the front door without looking back at Mr. Arwell. She dashed to the back garden and motioned that the coast was clear as she led the way back to the TARDIS, which seemed more black than blue in the darkness. The Doctor quickly caught up to her, although he stumbled over a hedge or two, and soon enough they were standing in the open air of the Console Room.

"Well, thank you for joining me. We don't usually get to do stuff like that: just watch a movie. It was nice."

"We should do it again sometime."

"Yeah, definitely."

An awkward silence passed between them for a moment. Clara was bouncing on her heels, looking for some way to make her exit and retire for the night. The Doctor's gaze shifted down to the controls and Clara found her opportunity. "I should let you get back to...whatever you're up to."

"Ah. Yes. And I should let you go back to...whatever humans do at this hour."

Clara took a step closer to the door and the Doctor stepped towards a lever on the other side of the Console deck. "Come again soon, Doctor. You're always welcome."

With a flash of a smile shared on both sides, Clara exited the doors. She didn't know why she had said the last part of her goodbye, but she knew she was glad she had. Sometimes, she knew, the Doctor needed to know he wasn't just an escape plan. He was her friend.


	8. Too Hot to Travel

**This features the Twelfth Doctor and Clara Oswald. Enjoy!**

Keep the Domestics Outside, Thank You: too Hot to Travel

The day had passed in slow-motion. The sun's harsh rays seemed to break through even the thickest windows of Coal Hill, melting the skin of students and teachers alike. By the time Clara had begun explaining Victorian era literature to her fourth class of the day, her brain had turned into soup. "So, umm, who can tell me about Charles Dickens?"

Gazing around the room, it wasn't difficult to decipher that the kids were through learning for the day. All variations of arms on desks, blank stares, and a sleepers were present. Even the Hermione Grangers of the class had their heads resting on their chins wearily. From a few rows back, a boy's hand raised slowly above his head. Clara simply pointed to him as she took a sip from her water bottle.

"Why is it so hot?"

Clara swallowed her water quickly and replied simply, "Global climate change. Ask your geography teacher. Now...Charles Dickens...anyone? Travis; how about you?"

The boy, who had been resting his chin on his hand for the past twenty minutes, blinked out of his stupor. "Why'd you call on me?"

"Because you know this and you're not answering."

"He was an author. He wrote books."

The girl sitting beside Travis smirked. "That's what authors tend to do."

At this remark, the heat went to Travis' face and made its way into his head. "Oi! I don't see you answering the question."

Without missing a beat, the girl sarcastically said, "You mean you can't _hear _me answering the question?"

Clara sighed silently to herself. Nothing like an argument to make the heat feel even more unbearable. "Look, everyone, I know it's hot and I know you're tired...I'll tell you what. I'll give you the rest of class to read silently if you promise to come in more prepared tomorrow; deal?"

The whole class had awoken at her proposition and so, for the first time that day, nearly every student in the room responded with a clear "yes." Clara sank into her desk chair and took another sip of water. Why teaching wasn't an Olympic sport was beyond her.

As soon as the bell rang, Clara performed her habitual Wednesday habit of rushing out of the door before any of the students. The thought of the cool, air conditioned TARDIS spurred her heels into clicking faster and faster against the tiled corridor leading to the supply closet. Even through the typical throng of students that conglomerated in the halls each day at this time, Clara was able to somehow weave between them and make it to her destination just three minutes after she had left her last class. Opening the shabby closet door and seeing the little blue box brought a bigger smile this week than possibly ever before, and that was saying something.

She pushed through the threshold of the TARDIS, awaiting a cold breeze to come, but all she met was a humid, thick atmosphere. The closet had been cooler than this. "Doctor?"

She fanned herself with the top of her blouse as her large eyes searched the darkened room for her alien physician. Her gaze landed on a toolbox sitting on the floor on the far side of the Console, a figure casting shadows across it every few seconds. Clara's heels clicked in frustration as she approached the Timelord, who was currently whizzing his sonic screwdriver over a panel on the underside of the Console. Clara knelt down to where the Doctor was lying on his back and breathed heavily. "Doctor; why isn't the air conditioning working?"

The Doctor sat up, carefully avoiding hitting the panel with his head, and fumbled his screwdriver into his inside coat pocket. "It's an old TARDIS, Clara. She breaks sometimes."

Clara watched him wipe the sweat off of his forehead before he stood beside her, making her feel extremely short once more. "Why are you wearing that jacket in here?"

The Doctor turned his attention down to his 'magician' jacket and gave Clara a look of incredulity. "What am I supposed to wear?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe a T-shirt?"

"I'm a 2000 year old Timelord, Clara. I don't _wear _T-shirts."

Clara shrugged. "Whatever you say."

The Doctor turned towards the controls and punched in a few numbers. Then, after taking a deep breath that Clara pretended not to notice, he took a few quick steps around the cylindrical Console to pull a lever and turn a few dials. "Tell you what," Clara said finally, crossing her arms more out of habit than thought, as this made her even hotter. "Why don't we make a pit stop?"

"Where to?"

Clara pretended to think for a moment, but she had this whole speech planned before she had even came into the TARDIS. "I've been craving an ice cream all day. I know this great place just a few blocks away."

The Doctor turned to Clara as if to argue, but no words escaped him. He turned back to the controls. "What's it called?"

A smile tugged at Clara's lips. It wasn't common for the Doctor to be this nice. He must be boiling. "Ollie's. It's a local shop."

A moment later, the TARDIS was zooming through the time vortex. One occupant was flitting around the controls like a lunatic and the other was watching with her usual pinch of admiration and humor. When the blue crate finally faded into existence in the alley beside the little ice cream shop, Clara hurried to the TARDIS doors, feeling the heat cling even tighter now, as if it were trying to stop her from leaving. The Doctor kept his jacket and long sleeve shirt on but followed his companion with tired steps, as if the air were made up of particles of molasses instead of carbon and oxygen.

The brunette was pulling money out of her bag before the Doctor had even closed the doors behind them. Looking up, Clara counted the people in line with a disgruntled frown. As the Doctor came beside her, she said quietly, "Might take a few minutes. They're not usually this crowded."

The two travelers took their spot in the queue and stared into the space in front of them. As time ticked on, the line inched forward, but stopped for long periods of time. When four minutes had passed, Clara suddenly felt the shadow that had been cooling her shift over, putting her in direct line of the sun's rays. Her back instantly began warming up and she felt her bare legs already being burned. She turned sharply, blocking the light from her eyes with her hand, and looked up at the stick insect who was now beside her and the line. "Why'd you move?"

"I was getting hot. There's a little bit of shade over here."

Clara looked more closely and, sure enough, there was a fraction of shadow from a building across the street covering the Doctor from head to toe. "You were blocking the sun for me."

"I didn't know I was on your payroll. Just come stand over here."

"I can't move out of line, now, can I?"

"Well I'm not going back there."

Clara made to respond, but just then the man in front of her shifted up a few steps. She followed suit and then turned to the Doctor, who was covered in even more shade. "I told you not to wear that coat."

"Don't blame the coat. I love this coat."

Clara sighed to herself and turned back to the people in front of her. There were only a few more customers before her. She could wait.

Two minutes later, Clara was finally under the cover of the roof, and a young woman about her age was calling for her from behind the window. Grabbing the Doctor's lanky arm, Clara forced her weary legs to move forward. She looked up at the tall alien and asked quietly, "What kind do you want?"

The Doctor took a quick glance at the menu board in front of him and then whispered back urgently, "Ice cream sundae. With the bananas."

Clara smirked to herself, though she didn't fully understand why. To the woman behind the counter, she quickly repeated, "One ice cream sundae and one vanilla cone."

"That'll be two quid."

Clara passed over the money and drummed her hands on the counter as she waited. The workers behind the windows were dashing about so quickly that Clara almost felt sorry for them. At least they had air conditioning, according to the large, gray box on the wall. The woman finally returned with their order and handed the ice creams over hastily, calling out loudly in Clara's ear, "Next customer!"

Clara ushered the Doctor to the side of the counter to get out of the next person's way. "Don't forget a spoon."

With their ice creams and the Doctor's spoon, the human and the Timelord started towards the TARDIS. Clara led the way, her heels clicking loudly on the pavement. As they passed a few tables, shadowed by umbrellas, the Doctor scooped a glob of ice cream onto his spoon and brought it towards his mouth. Without warning the Doctor, Clara stopped abruptly right in front of him. Instantly, he clambered his feet to a halt, but not before crashing his arms into her, sending his spoon and, subsequently, his ice cream, directly into his shirt and jacket. "Clara! What did you stop for?"

The human spun around, covering her mouth as she realized what had happened. "I was just going to say that the ice cream might melt in the TARDIS. Oops."

She couldn't suppress the smile that came to her face as the Doctor struggled to clean up the mess with one bare hand while holding the sundae in the other. Clara held up a finger and rushed back to the ice cream shop. Whilst she grabbed a few napkins, the Doctor sighed and allowed a laugh to escape him. What a day.

Clara was all over him a moment later, dabbing the frozen dessert out of his once white shirt and once clean jacket. It was soon apparent that the stain was temporarily permanent. After the Doctor's third time pulling away from her napkin-clenched hand, Clara ceased her wiping and tossed the napkin into a nearby waste bin. "Do you have a shirt on under that one?"

The look that came to the Doctor's face was one for the photo album, but Clara was able to hide her merriment. "Of course I have a shirt on underneath. Who do you think I am, Clara?"

Clara lightly picked the sundae cup out of the Doctor's hand. "Take it off then."

The Doctor's brows furrowed in agitation. Slowly, he pulled the magician jacket off of one shoulder, then the other. As he stood with his white shirt smudged with chocolate in the center, Clara's expression turned more stern. "It's not that big of a deal."

Exasperated, the Doctor unbuttoned the first button, but then stopped and looked at Clara helplessly. "Is this really necessary?"

"I'm not going around with you looking like that."

"Clara."

"Just get it over with."

"Yes boss."

Hands moving at rapid speed, the Doctor unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off, revealing a blank, dark T-shirt tucked into his pants. "Happy now?"

Clara smiled in reply and handed him back the sundae. Clara licked a portion of her ice cream and glanced around the street. "Can we take a walk?"

"A walk? All of time and space and you want to walk around London?"

"Well, all of time and space is a bit too hot right now, so, yeah, walk."

The Doctor took a careful spoonful of his sundae and felt a smile force it's way onto his features. "Alright. But no tours. They always get the information wrong."

Clara grinned as she squinted over at the Timelord. It was something rare and humorous to see the Doctor eating an ice cream sundae, and even rarer and more humorous to see him eating one while wearing only a T-shirt over his torso. Clara took a mental picture of the scene.

"You know, this is nice. We should hang out like this more often."

The Doctor, still feeling too awkward and embarrassed to be his usual stubborn self, merely smiled. "I guess some adventures can be found a bit closer to home. Your home, I mean. London, right? Or is it Blackpool? I can never really tell."

Clara carefully worked her arm through his non-sundae holding one and led him across the street. Anything with the Doctor seemed to turn into an adventure. Even getting an ice cream cone. But maybe that wasn't a bad thing. Maybe that was the best thing in the world.


End file.
